


Adderall and All

by IronRoseWriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ADHD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically the entire premise of this fic, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insults, M/M, Mental Disorders, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Derek, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12536432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronRoseWriter/pseuds/IronRoseWriter
Summary: From the prompt: Derek can smell amphetemines on Stiles thanks to his Adderall, but because no one ever thought to sit him down and say “Hey so Stiles has pretty severe ADHD” he just thinks Stiles does drugs. Cue a super judgemental misunderstanding.For Sterek Exchange 2017





	Adderall and All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegirlnamedcove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/gifts).



Derek could smell drugs. It was simply part of being a werewolf and having supernaturally-enhanced senses. That didn’t mean he wanted to be assaulted by their stench every pack meeting.

That stench would be the fault of Stiles. Now Derek didn’t think Stiles smelled terrible, in fact, Derek thought Stiles probably had the most perfect scent anyone could ever ask for. He had only ever caught it a few times over the summer, but it was heavenly. Stiles smelled of cinnamon and warmth and vanilla and home and Derek would bathe in that scent if he could.

Unfortunately, Stiles was also doing drugs - amphetamines judging by the smell - and it was completely messing with that naturally glorious scent that was Stiles. 

Not that Derek hadn’t tried to do something about it. He’d left rehab pamphlets in Stiles’ locker and bed. He’d left notes with his therapist’s name, address, and number. He’d tried communicating with Stiles anonymously over the internet. Nothing worked. His attempts were either ignored, shut down, or thrown away.

It didn’t help that the pack wasn’t doing anything. Whenever Derek tried to bring it up with one of them, they simply rolled their eyes and told him not to worry about it.

This was something that needed worrying about.

Derek cared about Stiles and his well-being. It was important that someone took care of the pack’s squishy human and if that duty fell on Derek, then he would do it without complaint. Derek knew that doing drugs would eventually destroy the human body (he did a lot of research when he figured out what was going on) and he was horrified that would happen to his Stiles.

Finally, Derek couldn’t take it any more. He had seen Stiles pop one too many pills before school and decided enough was enough. He was going to confront Stiles about his drug abuse after the pack meeting tonight.

Derek was nervous. He had researched all day on how to confront someone with a drug issue and knew what he was going to do. All he had to do was do it.

“Hey Stiles?” Derek called as the pack was heading out. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The human turned and grinned at him. “Sure. You got something you want to confess to me, Mr. Sourwolf?”

Derek was too focused on what he was going to say to catch the slight note of hope that laced Stiles’ response. The pack on the other hand heard it all to well and left the loft attempting to hide their giggles.

Derek guided Stiles to the couch and had him sit down. Once all of the other teens were out of the building and the chance of them overhearing was minimal, Derek began, “Stiles, I wanted to talk to you about a problem that I think we both know you have. I can see you suffering and I hate that. I want to help you. I’ve seen what happens to others that have these sorts of problems and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

The amusement Stiles had worn when he sat down had faded away into a confused, almost angry, expression. “Derek, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your problem, Stiles.”

“What problem? The only problem I have right now is you not explaining anything.”

“Please, Stiles, stop fooling yourself. Even if you don’t think this is a problem now, it will be. Just listen to me, I want to help you,” Derek pleaded. He took ahold of the teenager’s hand. “I know you’re under a lot of stress right now. High school is hard enough without also having to battle the supernatural. But this? What you’re doing to yourself? It isn’t the answer.”

Stiles yanked his hand away from Derek’s grasp. The wolf could smell the smoky odor of anger break through the haze of drugs. For a second he thought he might have also caught a whiff of disappointment, but he blamed that on the chemicals messing with Stiles’ soft, cinnamon scent.

“Unless you’re planning on actually telling me what you’re talking about, I’m leaving.” Stiles said, furious.

The teen stood and got one step in before Derek couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m talking about your addiction, Stiles!”

The boy froze. Quite literally - Stiles was in midstep. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.

After a moment, he turned back to face Derek. His expression and tone were unreadable as he asked softly, “My what?”

“It’s okay, Stiles, I know,” he said gently, trying to be comforting, “you don’t have to hide it. I know you have a drug problem and I want to help.”

“So you’re the one who’s been leaving those rehab pamphlets in my room?”

Derek nodded.

“And the therapist notes in my locker?”

“Yeah, she’s really good. She really helped me.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “I also tried to message you over the internet, but you shut me out pretty quickly.”

There was silence for a moment as Stiles processed all that information. And then….

“Why?” The question was spoken in that same quiet, unreadable tone as before.

“Because I don’t want to see you throw your life way, Stiles. Not for some high that you always come down from.”

“Derek, I’m not addicted to drugs. Or weed. Or alcohol. Or anything else.”

Derek shook his head. They were moving backwards. Why was Stiles denying it again? It frustrated the wolf to no end that the teen wasn’t listening. 

“Yes, you are,” the wolf insisted forcefully. “I smell them on you everyday. Are you trying to tell me that the fact that everytime I see you, the fact that you reek of amphetamines isn’t because of addiction?” Stiles tried to say something, but Derek cut him off. His wolf was upset and he was on a roll. “You saw what your father was like after your mom died - an alcoholic, a drunk. Addiction runs in families, Stiles. He’s not the kind of man you should look up to--”

_ SMACK. _

Derek’s head snapped to the side as the palm of Stiles’ hand connected to his face. Before anger could even begin to cloud Derek’s judgement further, the salty odor of tears filled his nose. He looked to Stiles to see the boy backing away from him with water pooling in his eyes.

It was the moment Derek realized that he had gone too far.

Stiles wiped at his eyes and stared at Derek. There was so much pain there that it nearly broke his heart. The boy cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was raw and full of rage.

“Are you finished, Derek?” he spat.

Derek opened his mouth to say something - anything - but nothing came out. 

“Good. Then it’s my turn,” Stiles sneered. “Tell me Derek, do you know what amphetamines are for? No? Well let me tell you. They treat ADHD. That’s a mental disorder by the way. One. Which. I. Have. I take them everyday so I can focus and get things done. So I can function and be even slightly semi-normal. Do you get that, Hale?”

Derek stared at Stiles. He had no idea about any of this. Why hadn’t anyone told him?

His lack of reaction must have confirmed something for Stiles because the next thing he hears is cold, broken laughter.

“Of course not. You’re a werewolf. You don’t know what it’s like to be actively fighting your own brain everyday of your life. To be called a freak and a problem child and have every single teacher you’ve ever had tell your parents that the reason you keep failing your tests is because you can’t keep your stupid mouth shut or stay in your seat.”

The tears were falling again and all Derek wanted to do was apologise and wipe them away. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. The werewolf fell to his knees on the floor desperately trying to think of someway to save this relationship. Derek couldn’t bare the idea of Stiles hating him. Stiles was too important. Derek…. He…. He….

He was in love with Stiles. And he had wrecked everything.

The amber-eyed boy threw his hands up in the air and walked away from Derek and his growing puddle of despair. “Who was I kidding?” the boy said to no one - it was clear he was done talking to Derek. “Here I was thinking that the big bad werewolf, Derek Hale might have gotten his head out of his ass and I was going to get the chance to tell him how I feel. But no.”

Derek hung his head. He was an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Stiles had feelings for him, but any chance he might have had was gone.

Derek heard Stiles pull the loft door open. But when he heard no more footsteps, he chanced a look up.

Stiles stood in the doorway. The evening sunlight hitting his face in just the right way to make him look angelic despite the puffy eyes and tear tracks. His face held an expression of what Derek could only describe a righteous fury.

“And, Derek,” said Stiles, voice perfectly even. “Don’t  _ ever _ talk that way about my dad again.”

Then he was gone. Stiles was gone and he took Derek’s heart with him.

* * *

 

When Stiles didn’t answer the phone that night, Scott simply assumed that he was busy researching whatever thing Derek had asked him to do. It wasn’t that abnormal. When Stiles got passionate about something, he threw all he had into to and Stiles was head over heels passionate about Derek Hale.

However, when Stiles failed to return any of his later calls, didn’t show up for school for the third day in a row, and missed the pack meeting earlier that night, Scott knew something was up. Derek hadn’t been there either, but there wasn’t anything bad going on and he wasn’t his best friend so Scott didn’t care. Which was why he was now standing outside Stiles’ house trying to get him to open his window and let him in.

“C’mon Stiles! Open up!” he called, throwing a rock into the window. He must have thrown it a little too hard because the next moment the window was being thrown open and Stiles head was sticking out.

“What the hell man! You cracked my window!”

“Sorry, Stiles. Can I come in?”

Stiles sighed and Scott knew he was rolling his eyes, nevertheless, his friend waved him up and his head disappeared from the window. Scott quickly scampered up onto the roof and through the window.

Once he was in it, however, the first thing he wanted to do was leave. The place stank. Stank worse than a butcher shop without power in July. Stank worse than that one guy in middle school who never showered or put on deodorant for a year. And Scott didn’t even have supernatural senses back then.

“Dude! What happened in here? It sinks!”

“Not you too, Scott,” Stiles whined from his bed. “First Derek, now you. Who’s next? Bring it on world!” The boy shouted at his ceiling.

“Derek?” Scott asked, frowning. “What did Derek do?”

Stiles sat up. “You have no idea,” he spat.

“Did he reject you? What happened? I know you were planning on confessing your feelings to him at the last pack meeting. I thought that was why you stayed behind.”

“Yeah it was. But it wasn’t why wanted to talk to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well….”

Scott took a seat and let Stiles rant his feelings out. Ever since they were little, Stiles thought out loud and often times all he needed was someone to listen to him in order to calm down. So that’s what Scott did. He listened to every asshole and Derek and “who does he think he is” and then Stiles started crying.

“....And then he said… he said… That Dad, my dad, John Noah Stilinski, wasn’t, and I quote, ‘someone you should look up to’. Yeah, I know my dad had a drinking problem, don’t think that I don’t, Mr. Derek-I-Know-Everything-Hale, but he had to go and say that? I… I just….”

Scott knelt down next to his friend and wrapped him up in a hug. Derek had no right to say any of that and Scott knew where he was going next.

* * *

 

“Derek!” Scott shouted as he stormed into the loft. “Derek! Where are you?”

The werewolf in question stomped into view. He looked almost as bad as Stiles but the True Alpha didn’t feel an ounce of pity for him that he did for Stiles. It honestly looked like Derek hadn’t shaved in days. And while Scott knew that Derek liked to maintain a little bit of stubble, the thing on Derek’s face was looking more and more like it was eating his face.

“What do you want Scott?” The born wolf ground out. He was obviously pissed but Scott didn’t care.

“Why’d you say those things to Stiles? You had no right. You know nothing about him or his dad.”

Derek glared at Scott with anger in his eyes. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I’ve enjoyed spending every waking moment for the last three days stewing in my own misery? Do you think I’m not aware of how stupid I am?” The anger puttered out of Derek’s expression. “I know that I barely know anything about Stiles or his life before all this. I know that I should never had said anything I did.” Derek sounded so mournful and lost that Scott’s fury slowly began to burn out as he spoke. “I know I assumed something I shouldn’t. Trust me, Scott, I know.”

Scott watched as Derek collapsed on the couch and covered his face with his hands. Stiles always criticized him for having too big of a heart, but Scott couldn’t help but moved to sit beside him and lay a comforting hand on the older wolf’s shoulder.

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I wanted to help him, Scott!” Derek’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I… I… I care about him. I think… I think I love him. But I wrecked any chance of that before I even knew it was there.”

Scott took a second to digest that information, another to formulate a conclusion, and a third to decided that Derek was just being straight-up stupid. “Derek, this is Stiles we’re talking about here. He’s forgiven me for way worse stuff than that.”

Derek snorted derisively. “Yeah right. You didn’t insult his last remaining family member.”

“No, but I accidently insulted his mom when she was sick. He didn’t speak to me for almost a week. Once I apologised though, we were good.”

“Really? That’s all it took?”

“Well things were a little shaky between us for awhile, but that’s just how things are when trust is broken. It takes time to heal that bond, but you have to take the first step.”

* * *

 

Stiles rarely napped. He didn’t really enjoy the idea of sleeping unless it was absolutely necessary (and he also seemed to always fall asleep in the worst positions), yet here he was waking up at three in the afternoon when the last time he checked his clock was at noon. On the other hand it was probably a good thing that he did. That rant took a lot out of him. But he was glad he did it.

Stiles honestly didn’t feel all that bad about it anymore. Well he still felt  _ bad _ , but he had also found some stability. What Derek had said still hurt, but he wasn’t rolling around in a sea of his own emotions anymore.

He looked around his room for Scott, but it appeared that the wolf with the crooked jaw had left after he fell asleep. That was okay. He was going to be okay. Part of him was hoping that Scott had left to go punch Derek in the face, but that might be asking for too much.

Not that he didn’t think Scott would try, but Derek Stupid Dumbass Idiot-face Hale would probably knock him on his butt before Scott could even start swinging.

And that thought pissed him off more than he could describe.

Stiles had fallen for Derek somewhere in between the pool incident and Matt Daelher’s attack on the police station. He tried to deny the feelings at first. Derek was a terrible Alpha back then, emotionally stunted and making all the wrong choices (not that anyone else was making better ones, but still). Besides, Stiles was still figuring out his own bisexuality at that point so even if things had been better they still would have been in the same boat.

But when Boyd died…. everything changed. Stiles couldn’t deny his feelings any longer, but by that point it was too late - Derek had been enchanted by the darach. Stiles knew in a nebulous way that Derek was straight. He knew about Paige and Kate, but watching the wolf fall in love with his English teacher crushed any hope of Stiles receiving that same affection.

But then the darach and the Alpha pack were gone, Derek lost his alpha powers, and Stiles had a very interesting conversation with Isaac. Apparently, Derek wasn’t as straight as he lead everyone to believe. According to Isaac, every so often Derek would go out for a few hours and come back smelling like other men.

Stiles didn’t know why, but that gave him hope. Hope that somehow his gangly, pasty, spastic self could be with someone as beautiful as Derek Hale.

But now that hope was crushed once more.

Honestly, at this point Stiles didn’t even care that Derek had thought he was a druggie. He didn’t care that the wolf had been invading his privacy in the worst possible ways by leaving him those pamphlets. He forgot his terror at finding some stranger’s business cards on his bed and in his locker. 

Stiles didn’t care what he said about him. The breaking point had been his dad. Stiles was infatuated with Derek, but infatuation was all it was. And infatuation - with the right amount of force - was easily demolished.

But Stiles wasn’t heart broken quite just yet. Oh no. Derek still held a little piece of his heart. And that was part of why he was so mad. He thought he had been reading the signals right! He thought the concerned glances he was getting from Derek were out of love - not some sick, twisted idea that he was doing drugs. Stiles may have trouble with impulse control, but he of all people knew how powerful taking prescription drugs could be.

But at the end of the day, Derek didn’t trust Stiles. He didn’t trust that Stiles knew what he was doing and was okay. Everything was different now. How that had happened so quickly - Stiles didn’t know.

* * *

 

This was a terrible plan. Derek usually took Scott’s plans (even if they usually worked) with a grain of salt, but this was probably his worst.

He wanted Derek to  _ talk _ to Stiles.

He wanted him to  _ apologize _ .

Not that Derek didn’t know he was wrong and definitely needed to ask for Stiles’ forgiveness, but actually working up the courage to do so was another matter entirely.

Un Fortunantely for Derek, his draught of courage came in the form of Scott who had refused to leave Derek alone until he apologised to Stiles. Even now as Derek headed up the stairs and onto the Stiliniski’s front porch, the True Alpha was hiding in the nearby bushes. But Derek couldn’t afford to focus on Scott anymore. He needed all his attention aimed at what was in front of him - Stiles’s front door.

He took a deep breath and knocked. When nothing happened, he thought about turning around and going home. Maybe Stiles wasn’t home (he was, even if Derek couldn’t hear his heartbeat, Scott had called ahead and checked before they even left the loft), but the power of Scott’s stare on his back had him raising his fist to knock again.

This time he could hear the faint footsteps of Stiles grow louder as the teen neared the door. It swung open and….

“Fuck off,” Stiles said coldly and slammed the door shut.

Derek stared at that door for a full five seconds before it opened again.

“I’m sorry. That was rude,” said Stiles with an empty, mean smile. “Fuck off,  _ Derek _ .”

The teen made to slam the door again, but Derek got a hand on the edge before Stiles could close it fully. Stiles immediately started to panic and pressed his back to the door trying to push it closed.

“Stiles! Please!” Derek called, pressing his weight on the door, keeping it open. “Just hear me out!”

Stiles pushed even harder. “No way! Leave me alone, Derek!”

“I want to apologize!”

“I’m not going to listen to you insult me again!”

Derek put more weight against the door and could feel it starting to give. “Stiles! I want to apologize! That’s it!”

“No! Go away! I don’t want to hear it!”

“Stiles! Let me in! Please!  _ I love you! _ ”

Derek heard Stiles scramble away from the door and the next second, it was swinging open and all the weight Derek had been using to leverage it open sent him crashing to the floor.

Derek groaned as he picked himself up. If he wasn’t a werewolf he probably would have broken his nose from that fall. He got on to his hands and knees and looked at Stiles. He watched the emotions flicker across the boy’s face - shock, happiness, fear, doubt.

“You love me?” he asked quietly.

Derek got to his feet and grabbed Stiles’ hand. “Yes. Stiles, I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry that it took me this long to figure it out. And I’m even more sorry about what I said. I should never had assumed those things. It wasn’t fair to you or your dad or--”

“Shut up, Sourwolf,” Stiles said. “I forgive you.”

“You do?” Derek asked, surprised and hopeful all at once.

Stiles laughed and it was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever heard. “Yes, I do. And it’s not just because you told me you love me. You decided to be the bigger man and apologize. And I’m sorry for what I said too.”

“No. You were right. I don’t understand what it’s like to have ADHD or have to take medications. But I want to understand and I want to be with you.”

“Adderall and all?” Stiles smiled. 

Derek grinned. “Adderall and all.”

**Author's Note:**

> To thegirlnamedcove:
> 
> Thank you for providing me this opportunity to write about this subject! All your ideas were brilliant, but this one really spoke to me. I have ADHD and took adderall once upon a time, so I really hope you liked what I wrote.


End file.
